


Friends With Benefits

by scapeartist



Series: 15-Minute Masterpieces [10]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7092877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scapeartist/pseuds/scapeartist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prompt for this story was "Killian" and "Venture." Killian needs some help keeping an eye on Bae while in Neverland the first time around. He knows just the fairy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends With Benefits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VickyVicarious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickyVicarious/gifts).



> Each one-shot in this series is part of a writing prompt exercise. I was having some trouble getting into the writing groove again and asked for a word and a character, and from there I would spend at least 15 minutes writing, I would not heavily edit, nor would I use a beta. This was purely me needing to get my brain moving. The "Masterpiece" part is tongue-in-cheek (even if most of these are not bad at all).

Hook took a long drink from his flask as if he were parched and what he kept in there was water. Far from it. He gave over to the familiar burn from the rum as it spread from his throat, throughout his chest, and into his limbs, which were already sluggish and damp thanks to Neverland’s perpetual humidity.

He passed his drink to the left, his work-roughened fingers grazing smooth, slender ones as he was relieved of his flask. Uncertainty flickered across his face for a moment as he considered the real reason he was there, but he replaced it with a carefree smile when he saw her glance his way.

His uneasiness hadn’t escaped her notice.

“What?” she asked, tilting her head to get a better look into his eyes.

Hook took a deep breath and shifted to better reach her, twining blonde wisps of her hair around his finger. He released them and met her gaze.

“I need a favor, love.”

Tinkerbell took a deep swig from the flask and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

She nodded once at him, amused. “This isn’t favor enough?”

“Ah, I prefer to think of this,” he waved his hook in a small circle encompassing the space the two of them occupied, “as a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Snorting softly, Tinkerbell shook her head, passed the flask back to Hook, and swung her legs over the hammock.

“Today, anyway,” she laughed as she stood. “So, what kind of favor do you need? You know I don’t have any magic.”

Hook stayed where he was, stretched out on the still swaying hammock, crossed his legs at the ankles, and looked up at her, grinning. “Oh, I don’t require magic for this, love. Just you, as you are.”

He took another sip of rum, and she crossed her arms over her chest and arched her eyebrows, waiting for him to go on.

All humor faded from his face as he corked his flask and put it aside.

“There’s a boy on this island—” he began.

“There’s more than one. Or have you been too…distracted to notice,” she interrupted while adjusting the neckline of her dress into some semblance of decency.

Hook rolled out of the hammock with a grace only an experienced sailor could muster, and pushed Tink against the tree trunk barely a pace behind her, his hips leading the way. He ran the curve of his hook over her collarbone as he leaned in and whispered, “I can do two things at once, darling. I’m quite talented.”

Giving him a light shove, Tink ducked away with a laugh. “And modest, I see.”

Hook shrugged and began fastening his pants. “As I was saying, Lady Bell, this boy is not part of Pan’s gang. He’s on this island because of me.”

Tinkerbell looked surprised. “Really?”

“Aye. He was with me… my crew… and now he's… not.”

“Okay,” she answered as if waiting for more of an explanation, but when none was forthcoming she sighed and placed her hands on her hips. “What will you have me do then?”

Hook flashed her a toothsome smile and reached out to squeeze her shoulder with a nod. “Look out for him. Bring him supplies I will leave for you. Make sure Pan keeps his distance.”

“What’s in it for me?” Tink asked with a sidelong glance.

“Whatever the lady wishes,” he said with bow.

Tink nodded, satisfied, then narrowed her eyes and considered Hook.

“Why is this boy so important?”

Hook drew in his brows and frowned, a pained look darkening his face for a brief moment. The muscle in his jaw twitched as he looked out into the distance.

“Conversation for another day, love,” he said with a stiff shake of his head.

“Why can’t you do it yourself?”

Hook leaned over and retrieved his boots from where he’d pulled them off by the hammock only an hour or so before. He sat carefully in the cradle of the hammock, leaned back, and positioned his foot over the mouth of the shoe.

“Thanks to the bargain I’ve made with Pan to make some supply runs, I’ll be gone. At least part of the time,” he said, pushing his foot into the soft, worn, leather.

Tinkerbell plopped down on the floor and picked up his other boot and wrapped her arms around it.

“That’s not the only reason, is it?”

Hook ignored the not-really-a-question and held out his hand for his boot. She hid it behind her back, out of reach. He felt tired, and not just because of their afternoon dalliance or the oppressive heat.

He wiped the sweat from his face and leaned his forearms on his thighs, canting him closer to Tinkerbell. She never failed to remind him of forests—cool air under canopies of rustling oak and maple, soft moss covering the ground, and the delicate scent of summer flowers growing wild in untended fields. She was nothing like the dank, rotting jungle that smelled of stagnant water and pungent, over-ripe fruit. She was a brief respite in the hell he’d created for himself, but she was not his confidant.

Hook took a deep breath and held it, closing his eyes for an extra moment to sort his jumbled thoughts of Bae and all the reasons he meant something to Hook. But finding the right reason to persuade Tinkerbell to help him was blessedly simple.

“The boy, Baelfire… He’s alone. And not completely of his own choosing. Will you help me or not, love?”

Tink handed Hook his boot and shrugged, but Killian could see her expression soften. “Sure. I’ve got nothing better to do. Especially if you’re going to be gone,” she added.

“Excellent. Then we have an accord,” he said, holding out his hand.

Tinkerbell clasped it in hers and squeezed gently. “Seems we do, Captain.”


End file.
